


Masquerade

by scifi (orphan_account)



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, they go to a fancy 17th century ball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 14:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21321700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/scifi
Summary: in which tenrose have some fun and go to a royal masquerade ball~[originally written in 2016]
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	Masquerade

**Author's Note:**

> hiya! this fic was originally written in 2016 over on wattpad (i'm called warpdrive over there) but i wanted to move a few fics from my teen years over to ao3 bc i guess i'm a little bit sentimental?

Night air nipped at her cheeks with a frosty touch that was uncanny for late spring. Soft silk draped over skin in an extravagant dress that allowed her to fit perfectly into the 17th century – in which they had landed. Her left hand was clasped around a wooden rod and on it sat an extravagant masquerade mask.

His touch sent shivers racing up and down her spine, sending her nerves alight with cool fire. Ancient fingers gently ran up the flesh of her exposed back; following the lines and contours of her spine until his fingers reached her neck. "Rose," he murmured in a tone that could be considered quite husky, "you look absolutely stunning."

"But Doctor, how can you tell it's me?" she pushed aside the sensation of the gooseflesh that had risen in his fingers wake and spun around, mask covering her face, only showing her sly grin.

"Touché," the Doctor copied her and covered his face with his own masquerade mask. His grin was softer and even behind the porcelain disguise; the Doctor's eyes gleamed in a way that was only seen when his gaze landed on his Rose Tyler.

"A bit nippy out here, can we go in?" Rose shivered for a dramatic touch and it seemed to work because before she could finish her shiver, the Doctor had linked his arm around her own and began to drag her out of the cool night air. Rose quickly readjusted herself so her arms were wound around his right bicep and her head was tilted towards his shoulder.

"Tonight what would you like to be? Foreign royalty? Celebrities?" the Doctor asked as his free hand delved into his pant pockets. He had shed his brown pinstripes that were his stock standard clothing of choice in favour of a more elegant style. He was in a black tuxedo with a simple bow tie; a clothing choice that Rose rarely got to experience.

He pulled out the psychic paper after several seconds of foraging in his pockets and waved the leather in front of her nose.

"How about the king and queen­–" Rose paused, stumped at what countries even existed in the seventeenth century.

"Of the Kingdom of Sweden," the Doctor read the psychic paper, "Well, _could_ be worse."

"Could be," Rose agreed and without another word the two placed their masks in front of their faces and escaped the elements. They were at a royal French ball that they stumbled upon via happenstance. The Doctor had been attempting to teach Rose the absolute basics of flying the TARDIS solo and instead of travelling to the icy surface of Europa, they had ended up in Europe.

It was just pure luck that Rose had always wanted to don a mask and dine at a fancy ball.

Their Swedish disguise had gotten them through the front doors of what they deduced as the royal palace. Warmth from fires in the walls and chandeliers above their heads embraced them like a toasty hug and elaborate chamber music carried through the palace. Around them, women wore dresses wider at the hips than a car and white wigs towered high up in the air.

Rose couldn't help but feel underdressed.

"You look gorgeous," the Doctor reassured when out of the corner of his eye he noticed her gleaming grin faded into a frown.

She felt her cheeks grow warm and flush the colour of her namesake at his comment; eyes darted to the ground as if looking even slightly towards the complimenting time lord would cause her cheeks to combust.

"Do you feel warm?" the Doctor asked when he took her rosy cheeks as a sign of overheating instead of embarrassment.

"No, no, I'm not overheating, just blushing," Rose attempted to roll it off with a shrug but to much despair, the Doctor continued on,

Tilting his mask slightly ajar of his face, the Doctor asked, "and why might you be blushing?"

Rose bit her lip, "I feel underdressed," quickly pulling herself free of her reddened cheeks, Rose asked, "Do you want a drink? The French probably have a punch bowl filled to the brim with champagne."

"Sure, might as well have one for respect," the Doctor once more covered his face with his mask. It was porcelain with swirling silver patterns that Rose believed were inspired by his peoples writing. Her own was decorated with intricate patterns of tiny flowers and lined with gold.

Giving the Doctor a grin, Rose set out to find champagne while the Doctor became immersed in the crowd where everyone hid behind their disguise.

It took Rose ten minutes to find the Doctor again after she left - struggling to carry two champagne glasses as well as her mask. She found him against a wall, bow tie askew, hair ruffled, lipstick smeared on his cheek, ensnared by a woman with a wild look in her eyes as if she was a lioness and he was her prey.

When the Doctor made eye contact with his blonde-haired companion, neither knew who had more horror in their eyes. "Rose," the Doctor whispered, eyes flung wide open as he watched his companion cease to move as if she had been turned to stone.

"My name is Jacqueline, not Rose, silly boy," the woman purred in his ear, oblivious to the fact that Rose was observing them.

"No. Rose!" the Doctor squirmed free of Jacqueline's grip and skidded to her side,

The lioness spun around, green eyes squinted at the young blonde, "Who is she?"

Before the Doctor could think of something, Rose became unstuck of her shock and replied, "His wife. We're the King and Queen of the Swedish Kingdom. And you are?"

The green-eyed lioness froze at their title, eyes shooting to the ground. She gave them a quick curtsy out of respect before shuffling out of sight.

"Want to explain that?" Rose asked, handing the Doctor his champagne. He looked dazed and shook up as he took the glass and sipped the straw-coloured liquid that brought warmth when he drank it.

"I was just standing there, looking at the painting when Jacqueline pinned me against the wall and...and­–"

"Snogged you," Rose finished for him; raising her eyebrows when she made eye contact with a rather guilty time lord.

"Must be irresistible?" the Doctor suggested with an eyebrow wiggle.

Rose didn't reply, instead, she placed her champagne glass on a small table near them and took the chance to fix the Doctor up. She ran her fingers through his thick brunette hair, smoothing it down and freeing the knots so it still looked luscious but tame. She then re-tied his bow tie, smoothed out his ruffled tuxedo; all while in silence. The Doctor didn't say a word as she fixed him up. He was fine just observing her, watching as her eyebrows knitted together in concentration and how her tongue poked out every now and again.

Rose then licked her thumb so she could rub off the lipstick that had been smeared on his cheek. All was going fine until she made the mistake of making eye contact. The gentle kneading movements of her thumb ceased until she was just resting her hand on his cheek; mind lost in his eyes until he nudged her.

"You missed a spot."

"Hmm?" Rose asked in a daze before remembering why she had her hand on his cheek in the first place. "Right," she nodded, licking her thumb again to remove the last of the lipstick. "Good as new."

"Thanks," the Doctor smiled at her, "Wanna dance?"

"S'pose," Rose agreed; forgetting about their champagne all together.

He took her hand but instead of leading them towards the sound of the music, the Doctor brought them to a balcony where the air nipped at their skin once more.

A slight sombre cloud had fallen upon them since the dreaded eye contact but the Doctor did his best to ignore it and Rose seemed to be the one who had now taken on the position of the 'dazed one'.

Even though it was just the two of them on the balcony, the Doctor and Rose kept their masks on. The faint sound of violins, violas and the violoncello filtered outside, providing music to dance to. It was awkward at first; masquerade masks in the way and only one hand free to dance with but the two made do.

Their dancing soon became languid until they were barely slow dancing – just swaying gently in tempo – Rose Tyler's head resting upon the Doctor's shoulder and his free hand wrapped around her waist. They danced in silence and it had given them both the time to think.

It had been three weeks since their visit to the 2012 Olympics and ever since then it had felt like a dark cloud had shadowed them, dampening fantastic moments and making the not-so-fantastic moments even worse.

It had been three days since the planet where they had made their promise of forever and since then the dark cloud had felt as if it has grown, evolved into something malicious.

Neither could pinpoint it but something was coming, something was wrong and as they swayed gently in each other's arms their thoughts came to fruition in the form of words.

"Rose"

"Doctor"

The two both spoke at exactly the same moment, which resulted in grins.

"You go," Rose said.

"I'm sorry about earlier, I saw the look on your face when you found me like that and I'm sorry. She really did just pounce on me–"

"It's okay," Rose soothed, her free hand reaching up to place her index finger on his lips.

"Can I ask something else?" the Doctor mumbled, her finger still on his lips.

She removed her finger to signal him to go on.

"Why were you blushing?"

His question caused Rose's cheeks to grown warm as she bit her lip to stop herself from cursing.

A lot of different variables were the cause of her rosy cheeks; when put together they send her flesh scarlet and most of those reasons revolved around the man she was dancing with.

The Doctor quirked an eyebrow when his question was only met with silence and with a pained sigh, Rose removed her mask and buried her face into the crook of his neck and mumbled, "Oh you know."

"You don't need to masquerade anymore," the Doctor attempted to be witty which only caused Rose to shake her head out of disappointment at his wording. "I'm serious."

The Doctor let his mask gently drop to the ground so he could have both hands free. Gently he pried Rose out of his neck and cupped her cheeks with both his hands. Silence engulfed them for several heartbeats that felt like an eternity before he whispered, "Oh I _know_."

His lips pressed softly against hers in the first kiss where they were both really them. The first Rose was the Bad Wolf and the second had been when her body was taken over by Cassandra. Now it was just the Doctor and his Rose, out on the balcony in 17th century France in a late spring night unseasonably chilly and they were _kissing_. It was sweet and gentle and when the Doctor broke away his eyes caught on a gleaming tear in the corner of his companion's eye.

It wasn't much but it was enough; the simple kiss spoke more than any random snog could ever say; it told of unsaid words and opportunities missed. The Doctor wiped the single tear off Rose Tyler's cheek when it fell before pulling her into a tight hug, nose buried in her golden hair, breathing in her marvellous scent.

The Doctor never thought he could fall for a human in such a way that he had fallen for Rose. She was just a girl, twenty years old and he was an ancient alien from a race that was extinct beside him. Since he had first met her in the basement of Henrik's, Rose had been something special, something intoxicating that he could never get enough of. If it were under different circumstances, another time perhaps, another life even, the Doctor would have pinched her for himself immediately. Of course, he kind of did that with her anyway but not exactly how either of them wanted it to be.

Rose Tyler was his weakness and would be his downfall someday but right at that moment, on the balcony in France, the Doctor couldn't care one bit about all that. He would deal with the repercussions when the sun rose.

All he could care about in that fixed point in time was the pink and yellow girl wrapped up in his arms and the way her lips had felt against his and tasted like champagne and strawberries.

"You know," he whispered into her ear, "You look gorgeous."

Rose Tyler couldn't help but blush.


End file.
